A/N: Let me start off by saying that this will be my last chapter for awhile. Starting Sunday, Nov. 15th, I'll be working 7 days a week, 10.5 hours a day until Christmas, so I'm not going to have much time to do anything other than sleep and shower. That being said, I hope you enjoy this one. The Tony/Jenny scene is possibly my favourite one in this chapter.
Gibbs frowned as he realised, with more than a little confusion, that the shower was still running. Having finally convinced Jenny to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time, he considered it an accomplishment that she had even agreed to the shower in the first place. She still rarely spoke, and when she was without sedation, her eyes were so haunted, so filled with an almost-palpable pain that it was difficult for him to look at them. Ducky had been a frequent visitor in the days following Matthew's funeral, checking on both of his closest friends, and when he had offered to leave a bottle of Valium to help the redhead cope, Gibbs had readily accepted them.
Aries was posted outside the bathroom door, still trailing Jenny like a shadow wherever she went, and as he knelt down to pet the puppy, Gibbs gave him a weak smile.
"Good boy, Aries."
He carefully pushed open the bathroom door, puzzled by the lack of steam in the air, and when he reached out to pull the shower curtain back, he called Jenny's name softly. She didn't answer, and he frowned when his eyes landed on her shaking figure, sitting on the floor of the tub, her soaked clothing clinging to her skin. The water was ice cold, having run so long that the water heater hadn't been able to handle it, and he flinched as it landed on his skin
"Jen?"
Still, she remained where she was, her eyes wide and unblinking, and it was only when his hand touched her shoulder that she jumped. He didn't think she was even aware of her shivering, and when he turned off the steady spray of water, she frowned in confusion.
"Come on, Jen. Let's get you into some dry clothes. You're freezing."
To his surprise, she didn't protest, and as he helped her out of the tub, she held onto his hand as though her life depended on it. She was unsteady on her feet as they walked, stumbling into the wall more than once, and he caught her each time with a gentle hand at her back, his eyes worried.
"Have you taken your medication today?"
She merely shrugged, not the slightest bit concerned with the bottles in their bedroom, and when Gibbs looked at her, he didn't have the heart to confront her. He knew just how much pain she was in, having difficulty navigating his own, and he thought that (for now, at least) that the matter would be best left alone. When he helped her out of the soaking clothing, she sank down on the bed, her eyes glued to the wall, and he slowly began searching for something warm for her to wear.
It was odd even to him that he was handling this well enough to guide her through it, but when he stopped to truly think about it, he knew that he was still in a state of shock. It would hit him sooner rather than later, possibly harder than anything had in the last twenty years, and it was only a matter of time before he suffered his own breakdown. He just hoped that this time, he wouldn't be left to fight through it on his own.
When Ducky ventured down into the basement, he wasn't at all surprised to find one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, sitting at his work table, absolutely drunk out of his mind. He made his presence known with a soft clearing of his throat, and when the younger man finally looked up at him, the pain in his bright blue eyes was so strong that it nearly knocked him over.
"May I come down?"
Gibbs nodded, and once the doctor had stepped onto the concrete, he glanced around the room curiously.
"Where's Jennifer?"
"Sleeping."
No other explanation was given, and Ducky nodded, moving to sit on the second stool, watching the former marine as he absentmindedly picked up various tools on the table, though he had no intention of using them. His hands were surprisingly steady, given the nearly-empty bottle of bourbon on the table, and as he took in the disarray of the room, Ducky frowned.
"I know I usually dominate the conversation, but...if you would like to talk about anything..."
Gibbs shrugged, taking another long drink, and when he offered the bottle to Ducky, the older man shook his head.
"No, thanks. I'm not much for bourbon."
They sat quietly for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts, and just when Ducky was preparing to speak again, Gibbs' voice cut through the silence like a knife.
"Why did this happen, Duck? I mean, I know we've both made mistakes in our lives, but nothing either of us did was bad enough to cause this."
Ducky frowned.
"You think Matthew's death is some sort of cosmic punishment for something you or Jennifer have done? An atonement for your sins? That's crazy."
"Is it? What else could it be? "God's will"? What kind of God would take an innocent baby's life? It had to have been something Jen or I did."
Shaking his head, Ducky placed his hand on Gibbs' shoulder, his eyes concerned.
"No, Jethro. This isn't some sort of punishment. This was a tragic accident, and nothing you've done is to blame. Either of you. I can't even imagine the pain you're both experiencing, but I do know that you're both stronger than you realise. You'll make it through this, together, and while the pain won't even go away, it will become more manageable."
Gibbs sighed, taking another drink of his bourbon. Though it burned on the way down, he hardly flinched, and just when Ducky was preparing to leave, a horrible thought occurred to him.
"Is Jennifer taking her medication?"
Gibbs shrugged.
"Doubt it."
He understood that Jenny was in quite possibly the most pain of her life, but Ducky knew that someone had to convince her to take her medication. Her mental health was fragile enough, and he couldn't fathom how she would fare without it.
"She blames herself," Gibbs said suddenly, his voice quiet.
Ducky frowned.
"What? Jennifer had nothing to do with Matthew's death. She did everything that she was advised to do. She isn't to blame at all."
"I know. But I don't know how to make her see that. She's a wreck."
Looking at the younger man seriously, Ducky moved closer, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes.
"And you?"
"Terrible. How did you think?"
Ducky sighed.
"I thought you were doing terribly," he answered sadly.
The slow movement of the blankets was the only indication of life, and as Ducky walked into the bedroom, he frowned at the sight before him.
"Jennifer?"
She didn't respond, and he stepped closer, smiling sadly at the sight of Aries sitting next to the bed, refusing to leave her side. The bed dipped with his added weight as he sat on the edge of the mattress, and he laid his hand on the blankets.
"Jennifer, get up."
He pulled the blankets back, ignoring the way she flinched at the sudden coldness on her skin, and he frowned.
"This isn't a request. You can't stay in bed for the rest of your life."
She raised up slowly, looking at him blankly, and when he reached for her hand, she stared at their entwined fingers as though she'd never seen them before.
"What are—"
"You're not taking care of yourself. You haven't been taking your medication, you've hardly moved from the bed, you've all but given up. How long will you keep hurting Jethro like this?"
She frowned, and when he continued, his voice was more stern than she'd heard in weeks.
"You're scaring the hell out of him, and he's in just as much pain as you are. You weren't the only one who lost that baby, and it's time you both stopped shutting each other out. Deal with your pain together, and show some support."
Standing quickly, he pulled her with him, and when he held out her coat, she tilted her head in confusion.
"You're going to see Dr. Lentz, talk to him, do what he says, and then you're going to come back here and talk to your fiancé."
Realising that it was pointless to argue, Jenny merely nodded, taking the coat from him, and as he led her out of the room, she wondered where Gibbs was. She was saddened and ashamed to admit that she didn't have the slightest idea.
Looking at the redhead as she sat quietly in the chair of his office, Dr. Lentz made a note in her file, not oblivious to the blank stare she had directed at his desk, and he watched her carefully.
"Jenny, I know this is hard. This isn't the way you pictured this going, and no amount of sympathetic words from anyone will make it easier. So why do you think you were responsive to Dr. Mallard's approach?"
She shrugged, and he looked at her seriously.
"Jenny."
"Because...because he's right," she said softly, "Jethro lost Matthew just as much as I did, and I've been pushing him away. I...I couldn't look past my own grief to see that. I shut down, and...that wasn't fair to him."
The doctor nodded, smiling slightly at her answer.
"Jenny, don't push your pain away. Acknowledge it when it comes. But don't drown in it. You're so much more than your pain, and sometimes, you need help to realise that. There's nothing wrong with being heartbroken by losing your baby, anyone would be, but don't let that loss set the course for the rest of your life. It was a tragedy, yes...but you can make it through this. Time will make the pain more bearable, but it's perfectly okay to ask for help along the way."
Jenny shook her head slowly, still trying to make sense of his words.
"But...how long does it take? This is...I feel like I can't breathe, I can't think, nothing seems to help. Even getting blackout drunk doesn't help."
Dr. Lentz gave her a serious look, and straightened in his chair.
"There's no set time frame, Jenny. This is a devastating loss, and it will take longer than you'd like for it to ease. But talking about it will help. It goes back to what I said earlier. Don't push it away. If you need to talk about it, do so. I'll adjust your antidepressants as well, and that should help some, but heavy drinking is absolutely not an option. That will undermine all the progress you've made in the past few months, and it will only make the situation worse. Do you understand that?"
She nodded sadly, and when she felt her tears begin to fill her eyes, she directed her gaze to the ceiling, not wanting them to fall. Dr. Lentz noticed this, and handed her a tissue from the box on his desk.
"Would you like to tell me about the baby, Jenny?"
She sighed, wiping away her tears slowly, and the slight nod she gave him was enough to make him smile.
"He was...he was so small...so tiny, but so perfect. I didn't get to see his eyes, but I just know they would have been the bluest blue in the universe. Like the sea after a storm. Just like Jethro's. He was the most beautiful little thing I'd ever seen. I...It wasn't fair...I never even got to hold him. The—the monitors started going off, and the nurse, she...she told us we had to leave. I told her that I wasn't going to leave, and...Jethro pulled me out of the room. I begged him not to, but..."
She stopped, holding the tissue so tightly in her hand that it had been rendered useless, and Dr. Lentz handed her another, his eyes undeniably kind.
"Go on," he nodded.
"I've never been a religious person, but...I prayed so hard that night. I've never prayed that much in my life, and...it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough."
Her voice broke, and for a long moment, all she could do was cry, fighting for each breath. When she had finally calmed down slightly, Dr. Lentz met her eyes, his voice soft.
"You didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't your fault, and sometimes, these things just happen. I know you think having a reason would make it easier, but the truth is, a million reasons wouldn't take the pain away. No amount of prayer would have saved Matthew, not when his body was too weak to breathe without help, and you did everything you possibly could."
Even as she listened to the doctor's words, Jenny knew that nothing would ever erase the gaping hole that had been made in her very soul by the loss of her son.
Without Agent Gibbs and Director Shepard present, a cloud of melancholia had settled over the Navy Yard, and it was felt by everyone who set foot in the agency. Even Anthony DiNozzo had been uncharacteristically subdued, making fewer jokes than ever before, and as he sat behind his desk, he twisted his pen in his hand thoughtfully.
"Has anyone heard from them?" McGee asked quietly.
Both Tony and Ziva shook their heads, and Ziva looked at him sadly.
"No. Cynthia sent flowers and a sympathy card last week, and Fornell sent flowers too, but I haven't heard anything else."
McGee nodded.
"Yeah, Beth called Director Shepard a few days ago. No answer, but she left a message."
"I think Ducky is the only person who's seen or heard anything since the funeral," Tony sighed, "Maybe he knows something."
Rolling his eyes, McGee shook his head slowly, staring at the Senior Field Agent as though he had no sense at all.
"Tony, they buried their child. What else could Ducky tell us that we don't already know? They're probably falling apart."
"Director Shepard doesn't—"
"Tony, I worked with her in the Middle East. Even through days of torture, being so near-death that she was hallucinating, I never once saw the Director break down. But even Jenny has her limits, and I think she's finally reached it. She's never going to be the same woman we knew. And Gibbs...well, this is the second child he's lost. That's not something you skip back from."
"Bounce," McGee corrected helpfully.
Tony glared at them both, shaking his head.
"I know they're a wreck. I never said they weren't. What I meant was maybe Ducky knows just how bad this is. How careful do we need to be when they come back to work?"
"Extremely careful, Anthony."
Tony whipped around at the sound of the Scottish doctor's voice, slightly embarrassed that he hadn't heard him approach.
"How can we help them?"
"Don't treat them as though they're made of glass. That will only make it worse. But do bear in mind that they've experienced one of the most damaging losses that a person can face. It's a fine line to walk, and you must be very careful."
The agents all nodded, and as they tried to ignore the glaringly obvious absence of their silver-haired agent and fearless leader, the sound of footsteps made them all glance up at the stairs.
"DiNozzo. Get your gear. You're heading back to the FBI."
Staring at Leon Vance as though he'd lost his mind, Tony frowned.
"But...Director Shepard said—"
"Well, she's not here, is she, Agent DiNozzo? I'm running the agency in her absence, and I believe I just gave you a direct order."
As furious as he was, Tony knew better than to risk his job by protesting, and when he swung his bag to his shoulder, there was no mistaking the anger in his voice.
"Anything you say, sir."
Though Leroy Jethro Gibbs would have sworn, following the death of his only son, Matthew Conor Gibbs, he would have never returned to work, he found himself getting dressed in the early hours of the morning a month after the funeral. Jenny was still unsure about the idea, and when Gibbs had assured her that they could leave if it became too much, she finally agreed. She was still pale as she pulled on her heels, but her eyes had finally lost that haunted glaze and when she felt his hand on her shoulder, she turned, her hair sticking to her cheek as fresh tears fell.
"You can do this, Jen."
She nodded halfheartedly, and he tilted her chin up so that he could meet her gaze.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
He kissed her once before stepping away, and just as his hand touched the door handle, her voice made him stop.
"Jethro?"
"Hm?"
"What about you? Are you sure you can do this?"
He made his way back to her, and she raised up to run her fingers gently over his cheek, her skin surprisingly warm on his.
"I don't want you out there if you're not going to be able to focus. I don't need something happening to you, too."
Giving her a small smile, Gibbs ran his hand through her hair, pulling her into his arms, and as she laid her head on his chest, Jenny found comfort in the steady beat of his heart.
"We can do this. Together, or not at all. Remember?"
She nodded, and as he wrapped his arm around her waist, Jenny laid her head on his shoulder. They made their way to his truck, and when Gibbs pulled into the lot of the Navy Yard twenty minutes later, Jenny was already beginning to wonder if they'd made a mistake. Still, they'd told Leon Vance that they would be returning on that morning a week ago, and she didn't have it in her to go back on her word now.
Gibbs frowned as he took in DiNozzo's empty desk, and when he barked McGee's name from across the room, the younger man visibly jumped.
"Where's DiNozzo?"
"Oh, um...Assistant Director Vance told him to report back to Fornell. Been gone about a week."
"What?" Gibbs snapped in disbelief.
"He—um—he said that—"
The younger agent's words were cut off as Jenny appeared behind Gibbs, a cup of coffee in her shaking hand, and she glared at McGee sternly.
"He did what?"
Ignoring McGee's stuttered explanation, Jenny swept up the stairs, and though he was undeniably furious, Gibbs found that a slight smile was creeping onto his face. In her anger, Jenny was more like herself than she'd been in a month, and he was so relieved to see it that he decided it might be worth his own safety to make it his mission to keep her as enraged as possible. He followed her quickly, not wanting to miss the opportunity to see her scream at Leon Vance, and when he walked past Cynthia's desk, she gave him a cautious smile.
"Good morning, Agent Gibbs."
He nodded.
"Cynthia."
"Just where do you get off thinking that you can ignore my direct orders even in my absence, Leon? Need I remind you that your title is Assistant Director, and as such, I outrank you? I want Agent DiNozzo back in this building by no later than 09:00 today. Is that understood?"
Jenny's mere presence was enough to intimidate almost anyone, and Gibbs felt an immense feeling of pride as he watched her from his place in the doorway. To his surprise, Vance didn't protest in the least, and when he nodded, Gibbs frowned at the look in his eyes.
"Of course, Director Shepard. I'll make the call right away."
As he passed the team leader, Vance gave him an almost invisible smile, and Gibbs followed him quickly, calling his name just as he reached the elevator. The younger man waited for him to join him, and when Gibbs powered down the lift, he looked at him seriously.
"You did that deliberately."
It wasn't a question, but Vance nodded anyway.
"A few years ago, Jackie and I lost our own baby. Miscarriage. The only way I could get her back was to piss her off. Anger was something she could make sense of, even in her grief, and eventually, she got through the worst of it."
Gibbs frowned.
"You never intended for DiNozzo to stay there."
"No. I wouldn't have even sent him if you hadn't told me you were coming back today. I needed to make her pissed enough that she would be able to focus on something other than the pain."
Smiling slightly, Gibbs placed his hand on his shoulder, flipping the switch on the wall.
"Thanks, Leon."
"Anytime, Gibbs."
To say that Tony DiNozzo was surprised to see the team leader sitting at his desk when he walked into the squad room would have been an understatement. His eyes lingered for so long that Gibbs barked at him to sit down, and when the silver-haired agent stood up, he frowned.
"Boss?"
"Coffee run," Gibbs said shortly, heading for the elevator.
Tony watched the silver doors shut, and then glanced over at McGee and Ziva curiously.
"Is the fearless leader back, too?"
Ziva nodded.
"In her office. She's the one who brought you back. Might want to go thank her."
Nodding, Tony bolted for the steps, hoping he wasn't overstepping his boundaries by invading her space so soon after her return. He knocked lightly on the door, waiting for her to speak, and when she granted him entrance, he opened the large door slowly.
"Director Shepard? Is this a bad time?"
She shook her head, gesturing for him to close the door.
"No. Welcome back, Tony."
"I could say the same to you. Thanks for...you know. Getting me out of there."
She gave him a weak smile, but it didn't escape his notice that it didn't reach her eyes. She was merely going through the motions, and if even he could see that, she was still in more pain that anyone deserved.
"Is that all, DiNozzo?"
"Yeah. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to say thank you. It meant a lot."
"You're welcome," she whispered, hardly hearing the words he'd said.
Tony could tell, even from where he sat, that Jenny was dangerously close to breaking down, and he looked at her seriously, his eyes concerned.
"How can I help, Jenny?"
She shook her head slowly, tears barely staying in her bright eyes.
"You can't. Nothing will ever make this right."
He stood, fully intending to give her the time alone that she so clearly needed, and she followed him, preparing to lock the door so she could fall apart in private. He'd just made it to the door when her tears began to spill down her face, and he knew, even as his hand touched the handle, that he couldn't walk out of the door now. Without even stopping to think of the potential consequences, Tony gathered her in his arms, running his hand soothingly over her hair.
"I'm so sorry, Jenny," he whispered.
She was crying so hard that he didn't even know if she'd heard his words, but he held her as tightly as he could, still smoothing his hand over the long red strands. Her tears dampened his shirt, but he couldn't have cared less, his only concern for the woman in his arms. The low beeping of the intercom made her jump, and when Cynthia's soft voice filled the room, Tony frowned.
"Director, you've got Agent Fornell on line one."
Jenny took a shaking breath, looking up at Tony as she stepped out of his arms, and he kissed her cheek softly.
"Do you need anything?"
"Could you send Gibbs to my office?"
Tony frowned again, shaking his head.
"Went to get coffee. I can do it when he gets back, though."
She shook her head, wiping away the remnants of her tears.
"Not necessary. And Tony? Thank you. For everything."
He nodded, kissing her cheek once more before leaving her office, and as she made her way back to her desk, she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Shepard."
"Good morning, Jenny. How are you?"
She sighed.
"Can we skip the pleasantries, Tobias? What can I do for you?"
"Fair enough. I need to know why you sent DiNozzo back to us only to pull him a week later. We didn't request him for nothing."
"Fornell, I'm sure you're aware of the circumstances that have taken place over the past month, and he was needed here. Furthermore, I do not have to explain myself to you, or anyone else. It was Leon who sent him back to you, not me, and I have decided that he is of more use to NCIS than he could ever be to you."
Jenny knew she was being harsh, but she didn't care in the slightest. Fornell sighed on the other end of the line, and as she waited for his response, she pulled out her cell phone.
"Jenny, I...I want you to know how sorry I am about what happened. I would have come to the funeral, but I didn't want to intrude."
"It's okay, Tobias. Thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful."
She hung up without waiting for an answer, and as she called Gibbs, she laid her head down on her desk, taking a deep breath.
"Yeah. Gibbs."
"Less than ten minutes, and you went on a coffee run?"
"I got thirsty."
Jenny rolled her eyes, sighing.
"Uh-huh. Jethro...where are you? Really?"
"I just had something to take care of. I'll be back soon."
Sensing that she wouldn't get anything more from him, Jenny raised up, closing her eyes tiredly.
"Be safe."
"I will. Love you, Jen."
"Love you, too."
As he walked through the quiet cemetery, Gibbs pulled his coat more tightly around him, coming to a stop at the grave in front of him. The earth was still freshly moved, even a month later, flowers covering the mound, and as he knelt down to touch one, he felt tears begin to fill his eyes.
"Hi, Matthew. Your birthday is in three days. Did you know that? You would have been a month old."
He sat down on the cold ground, hands shaking as he touched the smooth headstone, and he sighed.
"What happened to you wasn't fair, but I want you to know that your mother and I love you so much. Even though we didn't get to spend much time with you, that doesn't mean we love you any less. You've also got a sister to take care of you now, and I know she loves you, too."
Gibbs closed his eyes, laying his head on his knees, and as his tears fell onto the ground, he didn't even notice the shadow that fell over him.
"Jethro?"
Her voice was the last thing he expected to hear, and as he looked up, he frowned, beyond confused.
"How did you find me?"
Jenny gave him a small smile as she walked closer, her eyes meeting his slowly.
"I know you."
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough."
She sat next to him, reaching out to trace the letters of her son's name with her fingertips, and her head fell onto his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, taking his hand gently in hers.
He didn't answer, and she raised up to look at him, viridian eyes meeting cobalt blue.
"Talk to me, Jethro. Please."
Gibbs was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke, the tears in his voice made Jenny wish she'd never asked.
"After I lost Kelly, I never thought I would be a father again. The team, Abby, even you at first...those were my kids then. I couldn't save Kelly, but I could protect my team. I could keep them safe. I could give them the knowledge I had and hope that they made the right choices. Then, you happened. When you first started working with us...Burley, Decker, and me...you wanted to do everything right. You were so scared of making a mistake. So unsure of yourself. But you adapted to everything that was thrown at you, and I started to realise that you were so much stronger than I'd given you credit for. You grew, you proved yourself more times than I could count, and eventually, I couldn't deny how much I loved you. When you agreed to marry me, I didn't think I could be happier, and then you told me you were pregnant. At first, I was terrified. I hadn't gotten the chance to really raise Kelly, and even then, I had no idea what I was doing. But, this time, I thought it would be different. I had more experience in life now, and you would be with me every step of the way. Matthew was my chance to be a father again, and to raise my child completely. No tours overseas, no snipers, just us...and now..."
Jenny pulled him into her arms, running her shaking hand through his hair, and when he raised up to look at her, she ran her fingers over his cheek, catching the tears as they spilled from his eyes.
"I know, Jethro," she whispered, "I didn't think that pain could ever hurt this much, and to experience it twice...you're the strongest person I've ever known. You could have given up so many times over the years, but you didn't. I'm so proud of you, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone else."
He kissed her hard, holding her as close to him as he could, and he met her eyes seriously as he pulled away.
"Right back at you, Jen."
When Jenny walked into her house, she was surprised to find her sister sitting in her living room, flipping carelessly through a book, and as the door shut behind Gibbs, Heather rolled her eyes.
"Seriously, Jenny...don't you ever go anywhere without your little guard dog?"
Jenny sighed, ignoring the comment, and when her sister finally looked at her closely, she frowned. The last time Heather had seen the older redhead, she'd been much bigger, heavily pregnant, and she looked around curiously for the baby carrier. She said nothing as Jenny passed her to go into her study, and as Gibbs glanced around the room, he frowned as something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.
A small zipped bag was laying on the mantle, right next to the framed picture of Jasper Shepard, and he made his way closer, eyeing it with distrust.
"What's this?" he asked, reaching for it.
He grabbed it just as Heather darted forward, her eyes hard as she glared at him.
"It's mine. Give it back."
The fine white powder was unmistakable, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger Shepard. Her eyes were wide and glazed, pupils dilated, causing him to shake his head in disbelief.
"Jen, come in here," he called.
"Don't you dare," Heather hissed.
"What?" Jenny asked, holding various files as she entered the living room again.
"Recognise this?" Gibbs asked, holding up the bag.
Jenny stared at it in silent shock for a few moments before turning to look at her sister, and Gibbs watched her carefully, frowning at the anger building in her eyes. Though he'd originally thought it would be a good idea to keep Jenny angry to better redirect her grief, now he wasn't so sure. She looked ready to murder her sister, and he knew, from her shaking, that Heather could sense it as well.
"How could you?" Jenny asked, her voice shaking.
"It was just a slip, Jenny. It happens. You know that. No one is perfect. Except you, I guess. Perfect Jenny, with your perfect job, perfect fiance, and now your perfect kid. Speaking of which, where is the little brat?"
It was the wrong thing to say, and as soon as the files fell from Jenny's hands, Gibbs knew he would have to act fast. He wasn't quick enough, however, and when the older redhead crossed the room, pinning Heather to the wall, her arm against her throat, he frowned.
"Jen..."
She ignored him, her eyes glaring daggers at her sister, and she spoke quietly, her voice low and dangerous.
"Don't you ever say that about my child again. If you even so much as think it, I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your coked-out eyes. Do you understand me?"
Heather was crying openly now, shaking in Jenny's grip, and Gibbs took a step closer.
"Jen, calm down. She doesn't know."
Blue eyes locked onto his as Heather looked at him, and he met them sadly.
"We lost the baby, Heather."
Heather's eyes widened, and she tried desperately to apologise, still struggling in her sister's tight hold.
"Jenny, I—I'm sorry! I didn't know! I—" she gasped as Jenny applied more pressure, and her tears fell faster, "Jenny, p-please..."
Genuinely concerned now, Gibbs placed his hand on Jenny's shoulder, and when she met his eyes, the pure rage in her green irises made him pause. He'd never seen her this way, and it was beginning to frighten him.
"Jen...let her go."
Rather than do as he asked, Jenny increased the pressure of her arm on Heather's throat, and when it was apparent that she had no intention of releasing her, Gibbs tightened his hold. The younger sister was nearing unconsciousness now, and Gibbs pulled Jenny away, not even looking over as Heather collapsed on the floor, gasping desperately for air.
"Jenny, what the hell?"
She ignored him, glaring at her sister as she drew in ragged breaths, and shook her head.
"Get the fuck out of my house," she snapped, "and don't even think about coming back."
Standing shakily, Heather reached for Jenny's arm, holding onto it tightly.
"B-but, I'm your sister."
"No, you're not," Jenny answered coldly, "My sister would have never done the things you have. The Heather I knew wouldn't have chosen drugs over her family. Now...get out of my fucking house."
Heather looked to Gibbs, as though hoping he would intervene on her behalf, and when he merely stared at her, she shook her head.
"What happened to "I'll always love you", Jenny? Wasn't that what you said in your letter?"
"I do love you, Heather...but there's a limit to how much I can take. If I have to tell you one more time to leave, don't think that I won't call the police and have you arrested for trespassing and possession of illegal substances."
It was clear that she was deadly serious, and Heather wasted no time in bolting for the door. Gibbs didn't have the faintest idea of where she was going to stay that night, but he supposed that wasn't really any of his concern. He turned to face Jenny, still shaking in her anger, and he looked at her seriously, hardly able to believe what she'd just done.
"You could have killed her."
She shook her head.
"Would have let her go after she passed out."
He stared at her, and when she knelt down to pick up the files she'd dropped, he knelt down, covering her hand with his own.
"Jen, stop. I know you're in pain, but...that wasn't the way to handle it."
"I know," she whispered, "But I couldn't stand listening to her call Matthew a brat. I just couldn't."
He nodded, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hair gently. They both knew that Heather had only spoken out of anger and the drugs in her system, but it did little to calm the rage boiling in their blood.
Jenny couldn't stop smiling as she reached out to touch the tiny baby in his crib, hardly able to believe that she was looking at her son. The moment her fingers made contact with his skin, however, it began to fall off, as thin as tissue paper, making her pull back with a scream. It peeled away like the layers of an onion, each thinner than the last, and when she was finally able to look at him again, she was left staring at a skeleton with his father's eyes. It was the most horrific thing she'd ever seen, and as she backed away from the crib, she collided with something solid.
Turning around, Jenny found herself facing Heather, her skin rotting away, bones clearly visible as she stood in front of her, and the older redhead screamed again. Heather reached out to pick up Matthew's skeleton, cradling it in her arms, and Jenny shook her head, unable to look away.
"Please..." she whispered, "Not Matthew, please."
"Why didn't you save us, Jenny?" Heather whispered, "You were supposed to help us, but you let us die."
Both Heather and Matthew reached for her, and as she felt their bones wrap around her wrist, she screamed, trying to pull free. It was too late, and as they pulled her closer, Jenny screamed again, the sound echoing in the silence.
"Jen! Jenny, wake up!"
Her eyes flew open, a scream tearing from her throat, and as she felt someone's hands on her wrists, she pulled away, shaking her head.
"No! Don't touch me!"
"Jen, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe."
Wildly disoriented in the dark, Jenny couldn't make sense of anything around her, and when her wide green eyes finally landed on the bright blue next to her, she stopped struggling.
"Jethro?" she whispered breathlessly.
"Yeah. You were having a nightmare. It's over now. You're safe."
She let out a shaking breath, collapsing against his chest, and as he held her in his arms, he frowned, running his hand through her hair.
"What happened? You were screaming."
"Give me a minute," she said, still trying to calm her erratic heartbeat.
He kissed her hair, holding her tightly, and when she spoke again, her voice was still shaking, though she wasn't crying now.
"I was in Matthew's room...just touching his face, and his skin began to fall off. Eventually, there was nothing but a skeleton, and Heather was there, too. Her face was rotting, her fingers were just bone, and she picked up the baby. She asked me why I didn't save them."
"Jesus, Jen..." he whispered.
No wonder she'd been screaming and crying.
"They grabbed me by the arm. I begged her not to take Matthew, and—and..." her voice broke as she began to cry again, "Heather told me that I let them die."
Gibbs kissed her cheek, cradling her in his arms gently, and shook his head.
"You didn't let them die," he reminded her softly, "Heather's fine. Or, as fine as a cocaine addict can be. Matthew's death wasn't your fault. It was just a nightmare, Jen."
Though logically Jenny knew he was right, she couldn't stop her tears from falling, and when she had finally cried herself back to sleep, Gibbs wondered if they would ever truly be alright again.
A/N: I also quite like the confrontation between Jenny and Heather.